Page 24 of The Wedding Proposal
‘Only if I go to school?’
She pulled an apologetic face. ‘Yes. Joseph needs you to go to school, so I have to know that you’re going. What if he wouldn’t let me work here any more?’ It seemed an unlikely result of her not taking a stand against truancy, but Carmelo heaved a martyred sigh.
‘OK.’
Oscar rose from his machine. ‘I’ll walk with you. Make sure you know your way.’ He smiled a smile large enough to fit with the rest of him.
‘I already know my way and I need to talk to Joseph first. But thanks anyway,’ Elle answered lightly.
She left Carmelo studying Wikipedija and ran downstairs to leave the computer room keys with Joseph. ‘I’ll be back tomorrow morning to take the workshop. Do you know how many have signed up?’
Joseph shrugged. He looked tired. ‘About eight, but the way a drop-in centre works, that means between two and twenty.’
‘I’ll take the session as it comes, then.’ Elle paused. ‘Carmelo seems a bit of a waif.’
Joseph rubbed his eyes behind his glasses. ‘Yes. His family are not well-off.’
She hesitated, hoping she wasn’t overstepping any marks. ‘I was thinking about his clothes . . .’
She didn’t need to finish. Joseph was already nodding, his dark eyes full of compassion. ‘He’s one of the children who shies away from accepting anything from the donated clothes rack. The children with the least sometimes have the greatest amount of pride.’
Elle nodded. She’d thought it might be the case.
She paused again, even more reluctant to bring up the next subject. ‘By the way, someone’s been downloading, um, adult material, to at least one of the computers.’
Joseph heaved a huge sigh. ‘Damn.’ He paused. ‘I’m afraid I have to ask you what kind of adult material? Not something the police would be interested in?’
‘I h-hope not! At least, I don’t think so. I only looked at a few pictures.’ She felt her colour rising. ‘And they were just . . . just adult. Nothing criminal.’
Relief chased away anxiety on Joseph’s face, swiftly succeeded by embarrassment. ‘I suppose this isn’t going to sound very good but I have to look at it.’
Elle laughed, not sure whose face was burning hottest. ‘Yes, I, um, suppose so. I password protected it, so I’ll write down the details for you.’
‘Thanks for thinking of that.’ He pushed a pad towards her and she wrote quickly, with a note of which machine was affected.
Elle left his office and the centre gladly. She was no prude but felt awkward discussing the presence of porn with Joseph, a man she was still getting to know, and she didn’t have his foothold in Maltese culture or know its boundaries in terms of offence.
Emerging through the front door and into the sunlight was a bit like stepping too close to a fire. She stopped, scrabbling her hat out of her backpack, unable to fully open her eyes against the glare until she’d pulled it on. Then she crossed the courtyard and let herself out of the door in the wall and into the comparative comfort of the shady side of the street.
‘So, we go the same way,’ said a voice, as she rounded the corner where the street jinked to the right.
Elle started, and then tried to pretend she hadn’t as Oscar loomed beside her. ‘Really?’ She hoped she sounded politely disbelieving rather than jumpy. It wasn’t his fault he towered over her but Elle couldn’t help shrinking away, perhaps because he wasn’t the greatest respecter of personal space, always a bugbear of hers. Nor, evidently, had he respected her polite rebuff over walking her home.
She could insist on him stating his destination, she supposed, so that she could declare her route to be different, but she had the feeling that that would only lead to him dropping any pretence and declaring his interest. And his interest was already pretty obvious in the way he let his eyes roam over her — obvious verging on creepy.
‘Right,’ she said, discouragingly, and set off down Triq Bonnard.
He matched his long stride to her shorter one. ‘So, our new volunteer, you like it here in Malta? You usually live in England, yes?’
When she returned only minimal answers, he turned to talking about himself.
‘I am from the Nederlands, from Freisland. Not Holland! That’s what all English people think, that the Nederlands are Holland.’ He laughed heartily. ‘But North and South Holland are only two of our provinces. Friesland is a province, too, right up in the north. Even some Dutch people, now, call the Nederlands “Holland” but I am proud to be a Freislander. Like you, I am a volunteer, helping some young people and enjoying some sunshine.’
Nodding politely, Elle followed her usual route towards the marina.
‘And you,’ Oscar continued, keeping pace up and down kerbs, falling in behind her when cars parked half on the pavement, ‘you are here to make our computer room good.’
It didn’t seem as if he was going to abandon the conversation just because she wasn’t taking part in it, so Elle agreed, ‘That’s right.’ She halted, spying a neighbourhood shop on a corner. ‘I’ve just remembered that I need some shopping. I’ll see you next time we’re both at the centre.’
